a sensitivity which allowed her to find her own pace, caressing away her clothes, and inviting her to do the same to him. Any fear she had had evaporated in the growing heat of passion, stoked by the caress of his hands on her silken skin, and the touch of his mouth on her breasts.
He aroused her slowly, taking infinite care, his mouth and hands teasing until she was moving restlessly beneath him, her hands reaching out to touch him. His receptivity, the moaning sighs he gave that revealed the pleasure her touch was giving him, invited her to be bolder, and all her inhibitions faded away. It was not enough, and she told him so with every pleading twist of her body. Only then did he begin to make love to her with an urgency that soon had them locked together, straining towards a goal she had never reached before. When he took her, the pain was fleeting, forgotten as Pierce showed her a world of dazzling pleasure, taking her way beyond herself in a kaleidoscopic explosion which had her crying out, and hearing his own cry echo in her wake.
* * *
Alix stirred in the large double bed, coming awake to the tingling knowledge that Pierce lay beside her. Her husband. A warm glow of pure happiness spread through her system at the sound of that. No longer was she plain Alix Petrakos, but Mrs Pierce Martineau.
Turning her head on the pillow, her lips curved as she studied the back of his head, his dark hair rumpled by more than mere sleep. The memory started an altogether different glow inside her. Their union had been perfect. Everything she had ever hoped and more. She had fallen asleep in his arms, blissfully content. But that had been last night. It was morning now, and all she had to do was reach out and touch him, and Pierce would respond. Her heart gave a skip and settled into a faster rhythm, the fine hairs on her body rising as her nerve-ends came to prickling life. Smiling, she rolled over beneath the silk sheet, reaching out one slim hand to slide about his waist.
It was a move she never completed, because at her first touch the man beside her jack-knifed away, sitting up, thrusting back the cover.
‘Don’t touch me!’ The rasping tones, so harshly alien, shocked her into immobility—but only for a millisecond; then she too sat up, watching in total incredulity as the supple, naked figure of her husband moved away from the bed with a stiff-legged stride. One visibly trembling hand pushed the tumble of long platinum locks from her eyes. Large grey eyes, rimmed by dusky lashes, were suddenly clouded with disbelief and hurt.
‘What?’ She breathed the question on a note that hovered uncertainly between hopeful humour and pending horror.
The tall, slim-hipped, dark-haired figure of her husband seemed actually to stiffen at the sound of her voice, but he didn’t halt his progress to the en-suite bathroom. Gathering scattered wits, Alix was out of the bed in seconds, the sheet she used to cover her nakedness billowing about her legs as she followed him to the open door. He had to explain that remark if he wanted her to treat it as the joke it just had to be.
‘Pierce!’ Alix managed to keep her voice light by a monumental effort, but even so her underlying shock was plain. ‘That wasn’t funny, darling.’
Leaning casually against the sink, Pierce waited for the bowl to fill, turning off the water before swinging his head towards her. She wasn’t able to hold back her gasp as his beautiful blue eyes surveyed her from her head to her toes with blood-chilling disdain. She felt as if he stripped her. Not of clothes, but of her dignity. She suffered a searing wave of humiliation never experienced before, and her eyes widened, something as cold and heavy as lead filling her stomach.
When Pierce spoke, there was insolence in his voice too. ‘I never for a minute imagined it was.’
‘Pierce!’ She couldn’t believe he would say something to hurt her so. Not this cold-bloodedly. It wasn’t a joke. It was something more horribly real than that, and she had to find out just what it was before her world fell apart in tatters. ‘What’s happened? What’s wrong?’
Pierce was busy applying shaving-foam, but he paused to spare her a mocking glance that seemed to diminish her. ‘Whatever makes you think something is wrong?’
She floundered in a morass of confusion. Up until yesterday he had been so loving, and now... She cast about desperately in her mind for some sort of an answer, anything that would hold back the black tide of pain. ‘Is it something I’ve done? Are you regretting marrying me?’ It was the only thing she could think of.
He laughed at that, but without a single mitigating trace of humour. ‘No, I had every intention of marrying you. It was what I wanted.’
It should have been the answer she wanted to hear, but there was an edge to it which struck a chill through her heart. He sounded so cold, so...unemotional. Like a wanderer in a maze, she knew there was only one road out of this hell, and that was to follow the trail he laid for her. ‘You may have wanted it, but I know something’s wrong. I’m not that much of a fool, however much I may seem to be to you now. I only know that, whatever it is, it’s something we can solve together. That’s what it’s all about when two people love each other.’ Her voice, for all her attempts at sounding reasonable, carried a note of desperation.
Her husband didn’t even bother to pause in his shaving. ‘Who said anything about loving each other?’
The offhand question was a mortal blow which set her rocking. Alix found that her voice had to be dragged from a painfully tight throat. ‘But I love you, Pierce.’
‘That much we do agree on.’ He looked at her then, steely blue eyes daring her to follow up what he said.
She had no defence against the truth he wanted her to acknowledge. ‘No!’ Her cry was a hoarse denial, as a destructive pain tore through her.
Pierce calmly washed away the remaining soap and reached for a towel. ‘No. Quite correct. A good night’s sleep seems to have done wonders for your perception.’
Alix felt so weak that she had to hold on to the doorpost to stop from falling, while her other hand pressed tightly against her heart. ‘You told me you loved me,’ she whispered brokenly.
‘If you think back clearly, you’ll realise I never did use those actual words.’
Her tortured mind winged back to every conversation they had had, and knew it was true. The day she had told him she loved him Pierce had replied... Her eyes shot to his in anguish. She had thought he had told her, but his actual words had been that she couldn’t know the depth of feeling he had in his heart for her! Not love! Never love, only...
Though it killed her, she had to know. ‘Why did you marry me, Pierce?’
‘Why? At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I married you for vengeance.’
The word bombarded her. ‘Vengeance? But that makes no sense. For what? What have I done?’
She saw anger in his eyes then, a fury so great that it wiped out the terrible disdain. ‘Can the granddaughter of Yannis Petrakos really not know? I can’t believe that, my dear Alix. Search your memory, and I’m sure you’ll find the truth. Of course, if you don’t manage it, you can always come and ask me.’ He controlled his anger with that mocking contempt. ‘Now, if I’m going to get to the office for eight-thirty, I’d like to shower. For which I would prefer a little more privacy, if you don’t mind. Or can it be that watching a man walk about naked is one of your more interesting peccadilloes?’ Having sent that parting shot and watched it strike home, Pierce shut the bathroom door in her face.
Alix stumbled the few feet which separated her from the bed, and collapsed
